The Power of Love
by ChaosOfTheUniverce
Summary: Same old same old, Yuuri gets competition for Wolfram's attention. A onesided OCxWolfram story that will ultimately end with Yuuram. Throw in a crazy redhead, a tryout for Wolfram's guard, a little angst, and some crossdressing. Same old, same old, right?
1. First glance

**Hey people! Just a quick plot bunny that hopped into my mind, no idea where he came from. Anyway, I wrote this after I saw the episode _fiancé v.s. betrothed_. I was just thinking that it seemed unlikely for Wolfram to have had so few girls chasing him. I mean, c'mon, he is cute. So anyway, this is a totally one sided _other-girl/wolfram_. Enjoy!**

**No worries! **

**-Chaos:)**

If there's one thing I've learned for certain, it is that love is a double-edged sword. One side of the blade holds the desperate, unquenchable hope that is generally associated with rejected lovers. The other side brings a stupid, blind foolishness to do whatever it takes to remain near the object of your affections.

So yeah, love definitely hurts. No matter which side of the blade ends up hitting you, you come off looking (and feeling) like a desperate, miserable idiot.

The first time I saw Wolfram von Bielefeld, that was it for me. And to this day, I still wonder which side of the sword cut me. Most likely, it was both sides.

The first time we met, he was holding tryouts for his personal guard. My older brother, who was one of the prospective candidates, did very well, and secured a spot in the nobleman's guard for himself. After the tryouts, Sir Wolfram acquainted himself briefly with the family members of his new soldiers. My brother's voice was nothing more then an echo in my ears as he introduced us to the beautiful young prince.

"Sir, this is my mother, Ingrid, my father, Kristoph, my sister, Anni..."

I stared, transfixed, at his eyes as he bowed and smiled briefly to each of us. They were like twin emerald pools of dancing, cascading laughter, alluding to a rich, full, loving personality (1).

He was everything that a noble should have been: gorgeous, polite, yet distant. He chatted demurely with us for a moment, then moved on to the next family.

And yet, even as he moved on down the line of families, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with everyone, I couldn't move on from those three seconds I spent staring into his eyes. Over the next few months, it became a hunger, an obsession, to see him again.

While I milked the cow and collected the eggs, I would dwell on the memory of his smiling eyes, and blonde, wind-swept hair.

As I washed laundry in the town square fountain, I would prick up my ears in the hopes that the name _Wolfram_ would slip from the lips of one of the gossipy old ladies.

Gwin, an elderly mettle-worker, was the only one who I told of my love. He listened patiently as I poured out my sorrowed, pained, desperate affection, and never reminded me that I, a mere commoner, could never have any true hope of Sir von Bielefeld's 's returning my feelings. Finally, after nearly two years worth of comforting and wise words, Gwin suggested that I take up a hobby.

"You should busy yourself, _mi reina _(2). I know that your life and your heart are dedicated to this young man, but perhaps a pass-time would help to take your mind away from him, at least for a little while. Sparring, perhaps? Or your element: has anyone taught you to control it yet?"

So for the next few months, Gwin taught me to spar, and how to control the use of my element: water. I will not fake modesty: I was good, nearly as good as my brothers.

But Gwin was wrong on one account. I still obsessed over Wolfram, still would have given anything and everything to be by his side day and night. I fell asleep wishing he was lying next to me, and awoke with his visage swimming behind my eyelids.

As the years passed, my heart began to burn with a needful longing, surpassing in strength any emotion that I had ever felt before. I poured the raw passion and energy of my desire straight into my studies, improving more rapidly then before. I was intent on becoming a master at sword play and Mazoku. Nothing less then perfection would pacify me.

For I had a plan.

The next time a space opened in Sir Wolfram's guard, I would be the one to fill it. I was aware that I would be forsaking both my friends and family, but, to my eternal shame, all I truly cared for was my blonde nobleman. Everyone else took second place in my affections.

The day I had awaited for so long finally arrived, seven years after I had seen Sir Wolfram for the first time. A messenger arrived, announcing that tryouts for Lord von Bielefeld's's personal guard would be held the following day at Covenant Castle.

That evening I did the dishes without being asked, and played with my little brothers longer then usual. When I was certain the rest of the household was fast asleep, I rose from my bed and wrapped a length of cloth tightly around my breasts until they lay flat to my chest. Painful? Yes. Worth it? Beyond question.

Quietly, I dressed in trousers and a doublet cast off by one of my older brothers, and sorrowfully slipped away from my childhood home, riding my chestnut mare, Nellie.

Halting in front of Gwin's forge, I slipped inside to retrieve my sword from where I left if after sparring practice that afternoon. Gwin was waiting for me by the fireplace, the light casting a glow about his patient, tired, wrinkled face.

I wasn't surprised to see him.

He embraced me, and gently turned me around, unpinning my hair so that it fell down my back. With deft fingers, he carefully cut if to follow the line of my jawbone, as was the fashion with boys in those days.

Silently, Gwin handed me my sword, and embraced me again.

"Anni," he whispered, his voice as rough and cracked as his face. "If I ever had a daughter, I imagine she would be something like you. Don't chase love too far away, alright? We'll all miss you. And whatever happens, always know that you will have a family here until the end of time. My door is always open to you, no matter what."

Silently, I nodded, tears sliding down my cheeks. I would miss Gwin and his soft, thoughtful eyes, the many happy hours we had spent sparring together. But now my chance for happiness, my chance to be near the one I loved best.

And I would take it.

(1). Ha.

(2). _mi reina_ means _my queen_ in Spanish


	2. Bieshma

**AN: yes, hello everyone!! I am back, and I have decided to continue this story. I've had this chapter written out for a veeeery long time (it's been lost and forgotten and found again multiple times). Once again, I own nothing but Anni, and now Bieshma. And PLEASE HAVE NO WORRIES!! This is ENTIRELY a one-sided delusional relationship with Wolfram/othergirl. The girl stalker will do nothing but BRING WOLFRAM AND YUURI CLOSER TOGETHER!! Anyway, I'm going to France for a couple weeks in the beginning of June, so I won't be updating until after then. On that note, please read and review. Any comments, especially ideas related to plot or character, are greatly appreciated. Thank you! **

**Chaos **

There is only one way to describe Covenant Castle: big. And I, as I rode towards the castle that held my beloved, felt consequentially more and more small, less and less of an individual and more a part of the writhing, chattering, seething, squawking mass gathering around the sparring field. The crowd consisted of several thousand boys, mounted or on foot. All of them were around my age.

Nellie plodded along slowly, as steady and reliable as always. A surge of tears pricked at my eyes as I remembered my father, slipping his hands around my tiny six-year-old waist and swinging me up onto Nellie's broad beige back. I had been delighted by the way she'd stretch her neck forwards and strain at the halter as she pulled the plow across the field, her steady trot never changing. I would sit on her back as she worked, and my father would watch me as I bounced awkwardly, eager to go faster. Remembering the unconditional love I had received from my family made leaving them behind even harder, even if it was the only way to find my angel...

"Are you ok, there, kiddo?"

I looked up, startled, wet-cheeked, thoughts scattered. Hadn't know I was crying. My hazy gaze settled on a boy standing directly in front of Nellie, carrot-haired bright-eyed sparkling impish innocence shining out of him. Not a day over seventeen.

"Oh, uh, no. I'm fine, thanks for asking." I blushed, wiping my cheeks, embarrassed to be caught crying.

"Homesick?"

I stared, caught off guard by his perceptiveness, and the bluntness of the question. The boy stared calmly back, blue eyes blinking innocently. I nodded, and to my surprise, he smiled, and swung himself up behind me onto Nellie, hands resting on my hips and legs dangling behind mine as if we'd known each other forever.

With a gentle kick, he started Nellie's feet, and began to talk again.

"You're lucky, really. You've got someone to miss. My mother and father are both dead, so my older brother is raising me. His name is Yozak, and everybody says that I look more like his son then his brother."

I could feel this red-haired oddity smiling behind me, his love for his brother pounding in his chest.

"He's always calling me kiddo, which I hate. He **says **it's because he can't stand my given name, Bieshma, but personally, I prefer Bieshma to Gre. Honestly, what KIND of a cruel person would name a baby boy Gre? Besides, his best friend named me, so he can't be too upset."

"His best friend? Why didn't your mother give you a name?" I asked, wrinkling my forehead and twisting around to face my companion.

"I told you, my mom's dead," Bieshma said cheerfully, running his fingers through his already messy carroty hair. "She died a couple days after giving birth to me. And Yozak was way to young at the time to think about naming me, or taking care of me, Hell, he could hardly take care of himself! Anyway, Weller showed up with his father, and talked Yozak into bring me to New Makoku. He said that Big Chimeron was no place to raise a child. And he named me. Said that it was bad enough that so many people didn't know who they really were inside, but not to know your own name was just unacceptable. Pretty deep for a little kid, huh? So the first chance he got, Konrart christened me Bieshma, after his favorite kitten."

I grinned to myself, and snorted back a laugh. I'd never met anyone less like a kitten.

Bieshma heard me anyway, and laughed, too.

:Yeah, I know. But Weller was like, forty. Besides, he's still obsessed with that cat. I can hardly believe it's still alive!"

I grinned again, and leaned forwards to pat Nellie's mein. It was nice, having a new friend.

"So, Bieshma, have you ever tried out for Wolfram's personal guard before?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah." He sounded distracted. "Listen, Kiddo, can you, like, lean a little to the right?"

I complied, wondering if my new friend had a few marbles on the loose.

"A little more...a little more..PERFECT! Now straighten your back and tip forwards. Lovely. Thank you!"

"Can I ask why I'm doing this?" I asked rather grumpily, trying very hard not to fall off the horse.

"You're hiding me from view, of course. You see- "

"No," I interrupted. "I don't see. Are you a fugitive, or something?"

"No, you prat!" Bieshma shoved me playfully, and nearly sent me toppling face-first onto the cobblestone. "As I was about to explain to you, I HAVE tried out for Wolfram's guard before, and I got in, too. Right now I'm supposed to be showing the wannabes where to park their horses, and change, and warm up. Stuff like that; you know, directing traffic. But that's boring, and talking to you is interesting, and if Blondie over there at three o'clock and heading our way, sees me slacking off, and tells Gwendel who tells Anissina who tells Gunter who tells Celi who tells Weller who tells Yozak, bad things will happen to me, involving shaving cream, an angry squirrel, some cayane pepper, and my hair. Turn left here, please."

I tugged gently on Nellie's reigns, and she obligingly turned left. Twisting around, I craned my neck around Bieshma as I scanned the crowd for my beloved. I caught a glimpse of sunlight glinting off of golden curls, turned, saw my angel. He was standing on his tiptoes, surveying the crowd with a suspicious look on his handsome, noble, flawless face. I almost swooned with pleasure.

Bieshma saw my expression, and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"What's with you?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he followed my gaze to my Blonde Angel, who was currently searching the crowd for something, or someone.

"Oh, he **is** a looker, isn't he? I probably looked exactly the way you do now, when I saw him for the first time. Pity he's only gorgeous until- "

Suddenly Wolfram's gaze lighted on us. For a second, his eyes locked with mine, and I could have sworn that my soul was on fire. Then his deep, emotional, emerald eyes darkened, and his stately eyebrows slanted down, as he began plowing through the groups of people towards us.

" -he gets very, very pissed off," Bieshma finished. "Shit. RUN!"

I gave Nellie a quick kick in the sides, and she broke into a grudging canter. Bieshma's hands tightened on my hips as he glanced worriedly back at Wolfram.

"Oh, SHIT! If he gets on his horse, I'm finished, caput, dead, D-E-A-D! There's no way, NO WAY that anybody can out-ride him. He's like, a friggin' galloping GOD. If he gets on the horse, we're doomed. Doomed! No!!! _He just got on the horse! NOOOOO!!"_

Moments later, we were overtaken by my beloved, his golden curls blowing in the breeze as he pulled out his beautiful sword with his flawless hand, and pointed it at my unworthy neck, and growled beautifully, "**STOP YOUR HORSE.**"

I obliged, my heart fluttering at our proximity. The sword of my love moved from my neck to Bieshma's. If it was possible, Wolfram's expression became even more angry.

"Bieshma, what the HELL were you THINKING?? You can't just run away whenever you get bored, and you CERTAINLY can't just hijack some innocent kid's horse! You're the best goddam warrior I've got, but for Shinou's sake, grow UP!! Now get off of that boy's horse and climb on behind me. And no more hitting on wannabe guards!"

"I wasn't hitting on him," Bieshma grumbled, shoving something into my pocket before hopping onto Wolfram's white stallion. "I was just being friendly..."

"TOO friendly. I saw where your hand were, Bieshma. NEVER again." Then, to my utter amazement, my Darling turned towards me with an almost apologetic expression on his Godly face.

"I'm really sorry about Bieshma. I guess you could say that he's a little...flighty. He didn't rape you too badly, did he?"

I blinked in surprise, and completely cracked up, howling with laughter as I clutched at Nellie's reins. Bieshma joined me, his shoulders shaking like jelly as he snickered.

"H-hope he did-didn't r-r-rape me too badly?" I wheezed out, in between peals of laughter. "God, you're hysterical. Is it possible to not rape a person badly? Anyway, whatever. Bieshma hardly touched me! He noticed I was feeling a little homesick, and, um, went on _temporary leave_ from his job, in order to cheer me up. He's a sweetheart!" I added fondly, glancing at the twitching, giggling mound of red hair draped over Wolfram's shoulder and the back of his saddle.

"Well, um, all right," Wolfram mumbled, glancing worriedly over his shoulder at Bieshma, who was still giggling madly. "'Sweetheart' might be stretching it, but I suppose it's a matter of taste, really. What did you say your name was?"

"Isaac," I blurted out, immediately giving the name of my favorite younger brother.

"Isaac, hmm?" he peered at me carefully, scrutinizing. "You're not bad at all. I wouldn't mind having you in the guard. Well, show me what you can do out there, and for everybody's sake, do well! Bieshma is so picky about friends that if you don't make the cut, he'll probably sulk for days."

Glancing back at the redhead, Wolfram gave an affectionate mock-blow to his companion's shoulder. "Hold on, brat. See you, Isaac!"

Off they galloped, Bieshma's giggles trailing away behind them like a banner. Smiling slightly, I squeezed Nellie's sides to get her to move. Something crinkled in my pocket.

Slipping my hand inside of the second-hand garment, I retrieved a hastily scrawled note:

_ Listen kiddo, I'm not a very trusting guy, but I like you. You're nice, __and you make me laugh, so I'll give you some advice. They'll make you __duel Blondie in the arena, so __BE ON GUARD__. He may look like a girl, __but he fights like a soldier. However, his relies heavily on offensive __swordplay, and can't defend to save his life. If you can force him onto __defense, then you've as good as won the match. Good luck! And you'd __better win. My last roommate had a pet bug that he kept in a matchbox. __I think it's name was Bobby McGee (the bug, not the boy). Anyway, the __kid would not shut up about the stupid bug!! Nearly drove me insane with__his'Bobby McGee' this, and 'Bobby McGee' that. Eventually I just __smushed the stupid bug to shut the idiot up. Another bunkmate like that,__and I'm toast!_

I grinned, amused, and shoved the note into my pocket. Defense it was, then.

**AN: and there you have it, folks, chapter two. My apologies again for the delay. Please don't forget to review!!**


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